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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297019">Seventy-Eight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthorns/pseuds/queenofthorns'>queenofthorns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Battlestar Galactica (2003)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:21:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthorns/pseuds/queenofthorns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventy-eight seconds is a lifetime when you're not the one flying the mission. (Spoilers through 1.10 - The Hand of God)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee "Apollo" Adama/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Seventy-Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lee’s run through the conveyor tunnel takes exactly seventy-eight seconds. Seventy-eight seconds measured out in the drumbeats of Kara's heart. The half-moon marks of her nails are still embedded in her palms.</p><p>Part of her wants to beat him senseless with her cane, because she's never been so terrified in her life. Part of her wants to hug him until he begs for air, because he pulled it off. Cally gets there first and gets the hug; Kara decides that she can't kill Lee in front of all these witnesses so she settles for telling him she was wrong.</p><p>"I had my doubts." Though that doesn't really do justice to what she said to him. And what she should have said and didn't: <em>"Good hunting!"</em> And it doesn't do justice to what she wanted to scream into the wireless: <em>"Don't you fracking die on me!"</em></p><p>"I wasn't sure that crazy-ass plan of yours could even possibly work," he says, smiling. He doesn't seem to bear a grudge. Just in case, she hands over the cigar his father gave her, because Lee's earned this one.</p><p>She only gets a couple of seconds with him, before what seems like the whole ship crowds around and she gets pushed to the back. He has to tell his story over and over; every time he finishes a bottle, someone shoves another one into his hand. He's trying to talk and drink and laugh at the same time, and she knows he’s got that wild post-flight rush. There’s a little ache inside her, because this time she doesn’t share it.</p><p>Time to go. This is Lee's party, the pilots' party. Anyway, she needs to do something now. Alone, when the barracks are empty. The singing and the cheers follow her from the hangar bay. She passes a bunch of the desk jockeys from CIC on their way to the celebration; they grin at her, yell out congratulations, and she clenches her hands into fists because she wants to slam them up against a wall and tell them people died today and they should show respect.</p><p>None of them have watched their friends disappear in a burst of flames, knowing there's nothing they can do except listen to the screams on the wireless. None of them heard Chuckles' last "oh, frak!" and wondered whether one more test flight would have made the difference.</p><p>"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer," Kara murmurs as she takes the goddesses from their hidden place in her locker. "Take the soul of your son..." She can't remember his real name. Costanza... No, that's Hot Dog. Who is, mercifully, alive and getting drunk on warm nectar and war stories.</p><p>She closes her eyes, tries to remember the roster from that first day the nuggets came on board. Costanza, Katraine, and ... Perry. "Take the soul of your son, Gavin Perry, lost this day, into your hands."</p><p>She lays the figures back to rest, nestled in their wrappings. As she shuts the door, the photo catches her eye. It's just there now, most of the time, something she doesn't really notice any more. But today she looks at herself, unafraid in Zak's arms. That woman’s a stranger.</p><p>Zak’s not alone any more. Others have died because of her. But not Zak's brother, because the gods smiled on someone today. She smoothes the corner of the picture, trying to wipe away Lee’s frown.</p><p>"Hey!" Lee's right behind her.</p><p>She whirls around, stumbles and nearly loses her balance; Lee grabs her and she steadies herself against his arm.</p><p>"You always sneak around like that?"</p><p>"Why?" Lee raises an eyebrow. "You have a guilty conscience?"</p><p>He always manages to get a little too close to the truth.</p><p>"What are you doing here?” she asks. “The party's in the hangar bay."</p><p>"I know." He scrunches his nose. "I know. I've had three bottles of nectar poured over me already."</p><p>"You're supposed to drink it, not wear it." She grins. "Maybe they didn't teach you that at War College."</p><p>"I don't think that far out of the box." His mouth twitches and he dissolves into laughter and then Kara starts too and it wasn't that funny in the first place, but they can't stop. She's leaning against his arm, and he's hanging onto the table, and tears are streaming down their faces. Every time she catches his eye, it sets them off again.</p><p>Kara's face aches and her sides hurt. "What <b>are</b> you doing here?" she manages to gasp.</p><p>"I need a shower." He grimaces. "I'm ... sticky." He tries to unfasten the metal collar around his neck, but his hands are slippery and the seal's too tight. "Frack!"</p><p>"Hold still." His neck is damp with sweat and nectar, and he still smells of her cigar. Her stomach does a strange little flip, and out of nowhere, she's thinking about how he'd taste if she kissed him now.</p><p>"Here!" She hands him the collar.</p><p>He lays it carefully on the top bunk, undoes the top of his flight suit. Something occurs to him. "Kara ..." he says. "What are <em>you</em> doing here?" He's got that little wrinkle between his eyebrows that means he's serious.</p><p>"Enjoying the peace and quiet," she says, shrugging, hoping he won't ask any more questions.</p><p>But it's Lee; Lee always wants to talk things over, even when talking accomplishes nothing.</p><p>"Kara...,” he says, “It was a good plan.”</p><p>"Not for Chuckles," she bursts out. "Not..."</p><p>"We knew going in." He sighs. "We knew we wouldn't all make it back."</p><p>She turns away, blinking back the hot tears, swallowing around the lump in her throat. She won’t cry in front of him.</p><p>"Kara." Lee catches her shoulders, so she has to look at him. "It's not your fault... Even if you'd been there ..."</p><p>She puts her hands on his chest, to push him away, so she can walk out of this room and this conversation.</p><p>Instead, she pulls Lee toward her and kisses him. She tastes salt, sweetness, smoke. There's a split second when he freezes, and then he's kissing her back, and the blood's roaring in her ears and she's drowning for air, but if she stops to breathe, this will end.</p><p>He backs her to the locker, and unbuttons her jacket. His mouth is hot on her throat; he fumbles with her zipper, and her pants slide down her legs, as his fingers slide inside her. She arches her back, presses till she can she can feel the bones of his wrist against her, moves until his hand’s in just the right place. He whispers something in her ear, but she doesn’t care what it is as she shudders against him.</p><p>When she’s done, she pushes his hand away, steps out of her pants and her underwear and pulls him close again. He lifts her a little, so her legs are tucked against his hips, and the metal of the locker is cold on her ass. Kara keeps her eyes open, watches the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheekbones and the way the vein in his temple throbs as he comes. He’s quick; a few thrusts and it’s over. She wonders how long it's been since the last time.</p><p>He rests his head in the hollow of her shoulder; she lets herself stroke the nape of his neck as his breathing slows down. When he cups her face in his hands and looks into her eyes, he’s too hopeful, too grateful, too much like Zak.</p><p>This has to end, now, before she fracks it all up. Before he starts thinking that he loves her and it gets him killed.</p><p>“Big mission,” she says. “Lotta adrenalin. Makes people horny!”</p><p>His hands drop and he backs away. She bends to pull up her pants so she doesn’t have to see the look in his eyes, like she’s just punched him in the gut.</p><p>“Is that what you think?” His voice is so soft she has to strain to hear him. “Kara... that’s not what I...”</p><p>“I’m talking about me,” she says, with a shrug. “Nearest warm body... too much to drink. You know how it is, Lee.”</p><p>His face has gone cold, shuttered and empty. “Yeah.” He closes his eyes for a minute, swallows. “I remember how it was.”</p><p>She didn’t know this would hurt so much, but she has to go on. “We’re both drunk,” she says through gritted teeth. There’s his excuse, if he starts feeling guilty about it, even though she’s only had a quarter bottle at most. “Let’s forget about it, OK?”</p><p>Lee looks at her, opens his mouth to say something, shakes his head. He grabs his towel, slams the door of his locker, and then he’s gone.</p><p>She’s shaking when she sits down at the table. She puts her head in her hands and thinks of all the things she couldn’t say to him.</p><p><em>“Good hunting!”</em> and <em>“Don’t you fracking die on me!”</em> and <em>“If you ever do anything that crazy again, I’ll kill you!”</em></p><p>Seventy-eight seconds, she thinks. A lifetime.</p>
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